Two shades of blue
by Pinophyta
Summary: Shepard and Garrus' relationship develops throughout the story. Male Shepard/Garrus
1. Chapter 1

_This John Shepard's profile is: earthborn, war hero, engineer and medic. Physically you can imagine him as you want, but I have in mind the default Shepard when I write._

_A romance between him and Garrus Vakarian. I'll try to tie the relationship's development with the game story, but I'll probably leave the ending for when mass effect 2 is released (so I can tie the relationship somehow, even if Garrus is not there)_

_Also, bear in mind that english is not my main language._

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Shepard sighted and let his smile wear off, while he put an end to his last thoughts. Instead, he looked back in time. For a moment he wished he had someone around to answer whether he had ever been in love or not. "How silly", they would say, "That's something you just know". But Shepard didn't know. Was love easy for everybody?

Shepard remembered his years as an orphan on Earth. Back there, where the most important thing was fitting in, Shepard had learned quickly how to defend himself, both physically and verbally. Therefore, he always fitted in, though now he remembered how close to lose that status he had been. Gang leaders liked him, he was good at sports, a good fighter, and didn't speak too much. Maybe that's why he had kept that status, why the others didn't notice his indifference towards certain things that were vital for them.

He remembered how, sometimes, they would have access to adult material. Back then their ignorance only allowed them to speak about speculations, and things they had heard. Growing up there would probably make those boys misogynistic adults, with a very crude and superficial perception of the female gender.

Shepard didn't feel truly comfortable around all that. When they gathered to talk about it, he just nodded, he laughed, he looked, without saying anything. But he never made up his mind about that. Never looked at anybody like that. He didn't feel that sudden urge that seemed to move everybody around. Shepard remembered. How foolish.

In the academy, things changed. They got complicated, specially at the beginning. He remembered those first days with a lump in the throat, but he felt better when he became aware of the fact that they had been over gradually, turning him into what he was now.

At that age Shepard was handsome, athletic, and had an interesting past as an Earth orphan. With that reputation, girls appeared on his door in no time. Shepard wasn't oblivious to that blatant interest so many female cadets had on him, but he never answered that attention.

Come to think of it, he could have earned himself a very inappropriate reputation because of that. But there were other factors. He was a though boy, and he was good at the expected stuff, so the other guys liked him. He never made enemies, and was kind of popular. He was good at sports, he liked weapons, and was very good with computers. He didn't flirt with the girls, but maybe because he was too manly for poetry.

Besides, by the time the girls got into picture, nobody would have questioned Shepard's sexuality. Him? A simple glance, and you could see a future military leader. A remarkable soldier. His looks, his ways, his habits… Nothing but the predictable fitted the role.

But Shepard never felt that "other thing" either. For a while, in those first times at the academy, he doubted. He thought about it. Even feared it. But eventually he got his answer, and it was very clear. There was no "special someone", one gender or the other. Plain and simply.

Or not so simply. After all, indirectly, his peers were asking him to fill in his role as an ideal man. He only had the "womanizer" part left to become a champion, a legend amongst the students. That's why, when one of the girls had enough determination to ask him on a date, Shepard accepted.

He remembered those weeks with some embarrassment. He smiled, and blushed. The girl had known, and made clear, what she wanted. Shepard, in the meantime, couldn't stop asking himself why he was with her, every single day. The physical part was intense, and he tried to value it as his friends would in that position. He could admit how pleasurable it was, on a shallow level. But how could it work? He never knew what to talk about with her, and instead he ended listening, politely.

Eventually, she broke up with him, when it was clear that studies and training were Shepard's priority. He never really worried about what she would speak about him after that, but whatever it had been, it didn't have a major impact in his reputation. Some of his friends even tried to cheer him up, when there was no need. And of course, girls kept showing up.

For a moment, Shepard wondered if he had done the right thing rejecting the girls that followed up. He never told his friends the real reason, though they never really asked. Shepard feared being called a loser at that point, and missing the opportunity to "score" with all those girls was something only a completely insane young adult would do.

But Shepard wasn't insane. He was trying to be the best. It was odd to see a boy from earth refusing to party all time, but in the end everyone understood that Shepard didn't want any distractions at all.

His occupations also worked as excuses to reject those dates. He studied more, attended more classes, increased his physical training, and joined several sports teams over the years. He didn't have a second of his time to lose. So, eventually, girls stopped showing up at his door, because they knew he would be too busy. And when he entered active service, and fraternization became prohibited, there was no more open flirting. Not like there was a need for it. They were adults now, and everybody expected them to focus on their job, like professionals. Like Shepard had been doing all along.

Life in the army sounded foolish when he was young, on earth. Fighting next to professionals, under other's command. "Law" sounded strange in that street jungle. As he grew up, it was surprisingly more and more appealing. Every year his gang would lose one of his members to one misery or other. Violence, drugs. That was the usual. And Shepard didn't want to risk the possibility of becoming something else. He thought that maybe there was a place for him in that world of law and obedience, thought and action, authority and power. Years had taken the idealizing spirit away, but he felt good inside the reality he discovered as an adult. He was a remarkable soldier. A heroic example.

He suddenly wondered whether living by that stereotypical role was something positive, or negative. He was good at his job, he had the right amount of nerve and brain necessary to act accordingly to any situation. He was strong, intelligent, brave, and confident. He was commanding over four different alien species. There was nothing unremarkable on him.

Everybody would assume an ideal soldier's personal life was as perfect as them. Perfect, like it was included in the role. But he didn't quite fit that part.

How much would journalists dig into his past? They would be meticulous like archeologists, but would they put a special effort on his love life? Would they notice the lack of significant others in Shepard's life? He considered searching the database for information on that first and only girlfriend he had. Just to calm himself, he acceded the database, and discovered that Alice (so that was her name) had graduated with honor, and was serving in the navy. If the press asked her, she would make short and concise declarations. Soldiers were well trained for that, and she wouldn't risk her reputation by speaking inadequately about matters like a long forgotten boyfriend.

That sudden worry he felt made him realize about how odd his personal life really was. He had never missed anybody to talk about those "frivolous" matters, at least by professional standards, and now all that trivial stuff appeared to him as a matter of life or death. He was used to it, but now thought it would be convenient to have somebody around, a trust worthy friend, to know if what wandered his mind was acceptable, or censurable. To confirm or discard, to share conclusions and what ifs on accepting those thoughts and feelings.

Because his automatic reaction had been ignoring all of it, like a fun irrational thought. Then he tried to justify himself, and not give much relevance to his increasing curiosity, when in his free time he started reading articles about turian society and culture. Investigation. Interest in the galactic community. Shepard had to make a good example and act as a bridge between humanity and the other species, right? He wasn't a politician, but he would be fundamental on the building of that bridge, if everything worked fine.

So, in the end, he was once more committing himself to the job, like only the best could do. Studying and understanding his allies was a comprehensible need, as the leader of the Normandy's crew. But that task also felt like something he would do even if he wasn't required too. When he realized, he felt uncomfortable.

"Accepting it" wasn't so easy. But rejecting it seemed a lot more difficult for him, every day that passed. Whenever they talked, whenever he walked on him on the small alliance vessel. Something had made that curiosity appear, and the novelty led him to conclude, among other things, that maybe he was experiencing that thing everybody used to talk about. When you can't stop thinking about somebody, for a seemingly undetermined reason. When you flinch when you see them enter the room, or when your pulse quickens because they're close.

Shepard thought that, after all, none of these things were distracting him as much to affect his professional performance. So taking five minutes off to think about it wasn't really wrong, if he could then return to work with a cold mind.

He swallowed, and stood up. It was time to discover if he was as nonchalant as he had always appeared, and if his mind was cold enough to work without giving more thought to his fixation with Garrus Vakarian.


	2. Chapter 2

_Still on Mass Effect 1. Here Therum is the last stop right before Ilos. I always play in that order, but it doesn't really matter anyway. I insist: I'm trying to keep the details as neutral as possible. Including Shepard. Except for the set up of the first chapter: from now on I'll keep him "in character" as much as I can. I feel like each person's view of Shepard is subjective, and I'm ok with that. I just don't like it when it comes to fanfiction, and I'm trying to avoid those tendencies myself._

_So it's just Shepard, giving "it" some though. It's sort of a transition chapter. _

Shepard raised his hand to wipe the sweat off his forehead. There was no use: he was wearing his sealed helmet, and only when he struck his hand against the visor he realized the futility of the gesture. He was used to the fully sealed armor, but Therum's heat was nearly beyond his limits.

He looked at his gloved hand with frustration, wishing his suit had better insulation. The sweat was right on his eyebrows and could obstruct his sight in any second, and that could be dangerous in that moment. Crouching behind giant rocks, he waited for the programs on his omnitool to load. Nearby, his companions took care of the geth up the cliff. If they kept shooting at that pace, Shepard wouldn't have any targets left to attack.

Hopelessly, his gaze raised towards the figure perched at the highest rock formation. Garrus had found a perfect spot for him and his rifle, and had climbed precariously to get the best angle. From time to time Shepard heard the distinctive geth squeaking, and knew Garrus had taken down another one.

The turian picked up his rifle and jumped towards Shepard seconds before a rocket hit his sniper post, destroying the rocks completely.

Garrus looked at Shepard, though none could see each other's face. Garrus raised vigorously his fist in the air, a sign of victory, and Shepard knew that behind that helmet the turian was probably grinning enthusiastically.

Behind his own mask, he smiled. He felt a tickling and a heat completely unrelated to Therum's atmosphere, and he felt ready to continue. He jumped from behind the rocks, and in a second fried the remaining geth up the cliff. With overheated weapons, the geth were no match for the three armed warriors.

The rough terrain didn't ease their progress, and the stifling heat was no help either. He thought about taking off his helmet, as Therum's atmosphere was breathable, but he preferred safety over comfort. The battle was constantly raising rubble, and while mass effect shields protected him from shrapnel, smoke and other particles were resilient enough to blind him. And even just a second without eyesight could mean the difference between success, and failure.

Shepard wanted to believe he wasn't acting paranoid, that precautions like these were the right behavior for a soldier. But his concerns over safety had increased lately, in ways beyond the habitual precautions of a leader. Climbing up that rocky slope, he remembered the sands of Virmire, and the fresh ocean air on his face. Hurt from the memories of that day, he felt better under Therum's boiling air. Something inside him thought that Virmire was making him unusually careful. Unusual, obsessive. Fearful. If his companions had noticed, none of them had said anything.

He shook his head. Admitting fear wasn't pleasant. He tried to justify himself thinking that feeling no fear at all would be reckless and arrogant.

Choices like the one Shepard had lived through were though, and it had violently made him put his feet on the ground. Barely two weeks ago, he had rescued Zhu's Hope colony on Feros, with astounding success. Shepard always kept his ego in check, but that mission had definitely raised his morale. Just like in the conflict on Noveria, Shepard had emerged triumphant, once again.

And after that, he had been forced to leave a close friend behind.

It had been a sour defeat for Shepard, a violent lesson of humility that had replaced his euphoria and excitement with rage and insecurity.

But Shepard couldn't help being worried. Virmire had thrown him back to the sad reality of his dangerous mission, stripping him of any sense of heroism he had. It had made him reconsider not just the mission, but all things beyond it... Like his complex feelings towards his turian friend. A horrible guilt made him shake whenever he thought about it, and he thought about it very often.

Before that fateful mission, his optimism regarding it had never been particularly high. After it, he felt forced himself to abandon all hope. At first, he'd been thinking about it with a cynical voice, but as days went by, he started to see things under a different light.

Garrus would never be more than a friend, a good friend. Together they would take down Saren and the reapers. An exceptional turian agent, admirable sniper, and talented engineer. Thinking about how well they worked together made him proud, just as thinking about what he couldn't stop feeling made him smile with bitter resignation.

He told himself he didn't care anymore, and tried to accept it naturally. After Virmire, and being so close to getting Saren, Shepard only wanted to have the turian by his side. As friend, as ally. Back to back, fighting the geth and nothing more.

Would have he tried to approach him if they hadn't gone through what happened on Virmire? Shepard wanted to think he wouldn't have, but in the end he knew it wasn't true. And part of him still kept a trace of encouragement, and told him to step forward and tell the turian about his feelings, because in any moment any of them could die.

Just like happened on Virmire. It could happen again, when they least expected it. But what kind of excuse was that to propose to a friend?

It wasn't the right time to fall in love, much less to flirt openly. And in a situation like Shepard and Garrus', it was completely out of place.

Every glance from the turian made his feelings stronger, unavoidable, but also increased his feeling of helplessness. Garrus looked at him with admiration, after all they had been through together. From the initial curiosity and professional respect, Shepard's only comfort was that they had bonded beyond the professional contract.

The mine appeared in the distance behind the rocks, and Shepard picked up the pace. He looked back for a second, only to see his turian companion run gracefully through the rocky field. He smiled warmly for himself, a rare moment of peace where he didn't feel bitterness or guilt for it.

Garrus wouldn't return his feelings under ordinary circumstances, even less in the circumstances they were under. Shepard repeated that to himself, again and again, and felt a strange peace derived from resignation. His common sense told him. After all, what did Shepard know about turian society and that kind of relations? Even if Garrus could consider a relationship like that between them, the present situation guaranteed rejection

It wasn't the right time. It was a critical mission, they had no time for shore leave. If that weren't enough, Shepard felt that initiating a relationship after a friend's death was inappropriate. He couldn't help but feel that it was a mere reaction to pain, fear, and the sense of imminent danger they all felt at that moment.

He was afraid of losing him. He was afraid of losing any of his companions. He was also afraid of dying, and afraid of hearing Garrus being disgusted by his proposition. Mixing ominous fears with frivolous worries made Shepard cringe with guilt, but he couldn't help but feel those fears with equal intensity. Never in his whole life he had faced so many reasons to be scared, and with every steady step he was able to take, he wondered where he was getting his strength from.

A Geth crawler and more geth units were deployed a few meters away from the entrance to the mine. Their steps and power made the ground tremble. A moment before taking cover, Shepard looked straight at the threatening machine. He felt calm, he felt strong, and ready. Behind him, his turian friend moved forward with grace, unholstering his rifle. Right after taking position he turned towards Shepard, and saluted him with a military gesture, executed in an completely relaxed way. And Shepard smiled at that.

Maybe that's were he was getting his strength from. From the turian's mere presence by his side, having someone to call "friend".

Shepard took cover behind the crates, and quickly disabled the tank's terrible weapons. Garrus was taking care of all the crawlers and ghosts that hopped around the battlefield, threatening their mass effect shields with precise and lethal shots.

However, thinking coldly, Shepard realized he had no real reasons to consider his relationship with Garrus any deeper than his relation with the rest of the crew. After all, they were all together in the same mission, but was he bonding with any of them beyond the professional line? Was he any closer to Garrus, or he just wanted to believe that?

A lifeless geth phantom collapsed right next to Shepard, startling him. He looked at Garrus, still with his rifle raised. The turian looked back at him and raised his thumb, nodding.

And, despite not being fond of indulgence or pride, Shepard decided he didn't deserve those doubts. He admitted that a lot of things could be questioned: his feelings, his attraction to him, and every small hint of hope that crossed his mind. However, the only thing he wouldn't allow to be questioned was that Garrus was, in fact, his friend.

He waved at the turian, and together they ran towards the nearest crates. With the smaller geth troopers down, taking down the big machine was just a matter of time. Shepard overloaded it's systems, and it took less than a minute for the machine to blow up in sparks under their gunfire.

The victorious howls of his companions were unexpected, but welcome. The yells and the explosion deafened Shepard for a moment, but they also made him feel triumphant. They were so focused on their mission, that they rarely had the chance to enjoy battle like that. Garrus' enthusiasm, specially, was a rare sigh, but it was becoming more and more usual after each mission. Maybe Garrus was leaving his role as a cop behind. Maybe he was abandoning the calm moderation officers were expected to keep, and he was showing his true warrior nature. After all, every turian had military training. It was in their spirit, and with Garrus' known dislike for a structure like C-sec's it was only natural.

Shepard liked that attitude more every time he noticed, and he was surprised at how much Garrus' happiness meant to him.

The turian even gave him a pat in the shoulder as they ran towards the entrance to the mine. Shepard nodded, gasping for air. They had been running up a extremely abrupt slope for more than forty minutes, under Therum's suffocating heat and geth gunfire. All that physical effort was welcome, cleansing and somewhat cathartic, but still challenging for Shepard.

-Who said we needed heavy artillery to take those things down! -shouted Garrus.

Shepard smiled only for himself, reaching the heavy door.

-It may have come in handy, actually -he replied.

Garrus pulled out his rifle and followed Shepard inside the caves. He had hoped for a lower temperature in the shade, but the heat was just as strong inside the structure. He hoped to find the asari doctor quickly, and get out there fast.

After that last stop, they would be able to reach the conduit before Saren did. However, Shepard's lack of solid information regarding the subject deeply worried him. He talked about his visions with conviction, but as a matter of fact, the visions made him feel uneasy and doubtful. He didn't know what the conduit was, but at least, the prothean images had stopped flowing like a chaotic streams of nightmares.

The doctor would give them answers for that archaic mystery. Focusing on that last chance helped him cope with the visions, but in any case Shepard knew the end was near. They were running out of time to stop Saren... and the reapers.

He heard the asari doctor's voice at the end of the cave, and Shepard felt a renewed hope. When they freed the doctor and finally escaped that boiling planet, Shepard though that, wherever the conduit took them, he hoped it was cooler than Therum.

_I'm not entirely happy with the approach I've taken to this. However, I'll run with it, finish it, and try again later with a different approach. Is that alright? I mean: I'm not happy with it, but I just can't leave it hanging. I won't leave this unfinished. I can't._

_And there will be dialogue, don't worry :)_


	3. Chapter 3

Victory. One could experience it in many ways. Euphoria was a common reaction, but not Shepard's style. Shepard allowed himself a brief smile, and immediately felt like fighting again, because this victory didn't mean the war was over.

Rebuilding of the Citadel began in a matter of days, and though the biggest repairs were done quickly, it looked like restoring everything would take a great deal of time. The same could be said about the seemingly impossible task Shepard faced. He had proof, but was it enough to convince the galaxy of it's imminent danger?

For now, the Alliance's intentions were mostly getting Shepard out of the cameras. They had no problems with having Shepard's picture shown everywhere on the galactic media, though. It was good press for humanity, after all. They just weren't fully comfortable with what Shepard could say.

But it wasn't like Shepard felt the need to tell about what he knew. He didn't avoid the press, but met them only with encouraging words that were never elaborate or specific. Not out of respect for his orders, but because he knew very well that talking about the Reapers on television would bring more harm than good. And so, he was a hero to the public, but behind the cameras all his superior officers (not to mention the Council itself) questioned his judgment.

He would be leaving in a few hours, on a mission to end the Geth invasion attempt. It was a clever way of punishing Shepard and the whole Normandy, an unremarkable clean-up operation. He had ran away on a grounded ship, after all. The assignment would have been welcomed by everyone, (after the high pressure they had suffered for the last months) if it weren't for the fact that the war wasn't over yet. This mission was not only a tedious punishment, it was also a dangerous obstruction.

He only accepted it because he had no real leads. Even if he didn't have to stay for the cleanup, he wouldn't know exactly where to start looking. Prothean archives, maybe. Take a more calm look at what was found on Ilos, find out as much as possible about the Reapers. There were many things to do, and probably they all were more productive than eradicating Geth. The worst part was that no one else was looking into it. If Shepard didn't prepare the battleground to face the Reapers, then who would do it?

At the very least, he could be gathering help. He still had his squad with him. He knew they would leave eventually, some sooner than others, but they all had shown they were ready to follow Shepard. And the whole crew believed in him, so they would follow his orders. Even if those orders took them on a useless geth hunt.

He found some solace in thinking that it would only take a few weeks, no longer than two months, and that then maybe he could assemble all evidence on the Reapers. They would have to be very careful with that, as the wrong wording could mean the difference between being believed, and being dismissed. He would have to take a second look at all data disks, and assemble everything for a dossier...

The elevator doors opened, he reached the bottom of the citadel tower, and the now clean air of the Presidium greeted him. They were still rebuilding, scaffolding covered a great part of the buildings. There was no traffic, and all lakes had been temporarily drained to facilitate work. At least the lighting had been restored to its natural daylight imitation and artificial sky.

A lot of people were reunited at the bottom of the tower, though not all were waiting for him. In fact, very few journalists were around, and they were all conducting interviews already. He saw Emily Wong speaking with an Elcor diplomat. The woman smiled at him and winked an eye, Shepard silently nodded at her with sympathy. Nobody really noticed him, oddly enough, but after all the presidium had it's own natural share of celebrities. They could make him go unnoticed.

Only a small group of humans and aliens was specifically waiting for him there, sitting next to a now empty fountain. Wrex was standing pointing to it, talking to the Quarian rather enthusiastically.

"...and if there were any, I bet they are dead by now, don't you think?"

Wrex was joking. He was in a good mood. Except for him they all looked a bit tense.

"Shepard", said the Quarian, "how did it go?"

"Nothing unexpected. The same words we've all heard before, and it doesn't look like they're gonna change their minds any time soon."

It sure was disappointing. Sending a spectre to fight scattered Geth units... Not a very heroic task to follow Saren's defeat, but it could be worse. Or so he wanted to believe.

The rest of the crew was dismissed, at least for the day. They had yet to decide what to do next and communicate it to Shepard officially, but for now, they were with him.

And Garrus stayed with Shepard to discuss just that, though at first he only joined the Commander in his walk back to the spaceport. Battling Geth wouldn't be much of a punishment, after all, if he got to do it next to the Turian.

"So... Did it really go like that?", the alien asked.

"Word for word. Not just the same arguments. They could have played me a recording of our last meeting, and it would have been exactly the same."

"Hmm. I bet they were trying to convince you as much as you were trying to convince them."

"Well, I can't give up now. I know they look, sound and act like they're a lost cause, but it wouldn't feel right to just leave it be for them."

"I know. Just in case they forget it, right?"

They kept walking for a while, through the recovering normality of the Presidium, and later, the Wards. A lot of shops were still closed, and nearly all clubs and bars. The mood wasn't exactly festive, but at least people looked like they were recovering their morale.

"So..." Garrus broke the silence again. "how is it going to be?

Shepard turned to look at him, and tried to read the turian's face. Recognizing his confusion, Garrus added: "I mean, after the Geth are gone. What will happen?"

Shepard shook his head. "I'm not sure. We'll probably need to start by reviewing all data gathered on Ilos..."

"Well, of course" interrupted Garrus. "But I was talking about the crew. The Normandy. All of us."

"I don't think the Alliance will take the Normandy away from me. They're angry with our improvised escape, but we'll live it down. And about you... You all have to decide what to do next. You're part of my crew, but beyond this mission I have no longer authority over any of you."

"Spectres are meant to work alone, right" he chuckled "How could I forgot that one!" he joked.

"Were you worried about your plans? You told me you wanted to reapply for spectre training, after rejoining Csec."

"Yeah, and I still look forward to that. But I would also stay with you, if you asked me to... Commander."

Shepard almost stopped right on the spot, but kept walking calmly through the street. He was used to shows of respect and loyalty from his men, but Garrus' words hit a spot that made him look at him, and smile.

"I appreciate the trust", he said. "And thank you."

It was at that moment that he stopped walking. With military stoicism, he offered Garrus a handshake. The turian laughed, but accepted.

"Well, I believe we all think pretty much the same."

"And I'm grateful to all of you. But you have your own aspirations, and the fact that you're willing to delay them to serve with me, is something I really appreciate."

Admirable, indeed. It was the longest smile he had held since the great victory.

So Garrus would stay with him for now, and after the clean-up...

He probably didn't have the courage to make him stay. As much as his heart wanted to have him close, he couldn't have him give up his dreams of becoming a spectre. Of making a difference, in the turian's own words. Letting him go would be the reasonable thing to do.

Letting him go? Of course. Because he needed his presence, wanted him there somewhere on the squad. He wanted to keep him there, close, in case he decided to tell him once and for all. Were there really other reasons?

He couldn't keep the turian around forever. Considering how cautious he was being, waiting for courage to confess would lead to a very vague, and certainly distant deadline. But what moment could be appropriate to deal with the matter? Wasn't the aftermath of a battle good enough for a confession? Wasn't this exact quiet walk through the Wards the exact, perfect moment to say "_let's hang out together_"? "_You mean something to me_"? "_I wish I could know you better_"?

He just had to do it. In fact, the chance couldn't be any more perfect. They walked next to one of the few open bars. The place was packed, but pleasant. But they kept waling, until the bar was behind them, and it was too late to say "_want to go for a drink_?" because they were gone.

"It's just my opinion, commander" Garrus drove him out of his trail of pessimistic thoughts, "but I think you need as many allies as you can find. Maybe you don't see it this way, and I repeat that it's just my opinion, but I think this whole Reaper thing may leave you quite lonely in the eyes of your opponents."

"I agree with you. The Alliance isn't being exactly helpful, for example."

"Yeah. I think it's better if the entire crew stays with you. It will give you and your mission a stronger appearance, all in all... A lot of people will want to bring you down. Humans, non humans... Well, you heard the council. I think our presence would help you. That, and also, we look better in the vids."

He laughed. Shepard wondered if Garrus had been like this before leaving Csec. Or ever. He looked... happy. He looked like he had hope for the future. And Shepard...

Shepard didn't have a place in that future. Not directly, at least. Maybe they would join the fight together, but they wouldn't _be_ together, and they never would be. Garrus had talent, he had potential, and one would have to be blind to ignore that. And if he didn't get to work on his own somehow, his true strength would likely never show.

"You look thoughtful, sir" Garrus said, more seriously "Is there anything wrong?"

The question caught him off guard due to its candidness. Of course, the turian was talking strictly like a soldier, concerned for his commanding officer, but it still felt nice to be asked that. It showed that Vakarian was more perceptive than one would think of Turians. They were a highly militaristic society, after all. No place for emotions in the armed forces.

"No" he replied, "it's fine. I just want to be done with this operation."

The alien gave him a thoughtful look. Something in his gaze looked different. It was miles away from the severe, stoic posture he had days ago. Miles away from the turian watching and learning, from his place next to the mako. Right in that moment, he almost seemed to have a smile on his pointy mouth. And his head was leaning, only slightly towards the right. What did that mean? What would Garrus become?

"Then let's go fight some more geth." he said jokingly. "Hey, isn't that what we're best at?"

They left for the docks. They would be leaving in a few hours. The moment had long passed, and Shepard hadn't said anything at all.

But there were difficult times ahead. It would be absurd to add more worries and ties. He had good friends, good soldiers by his side. Even if he didn't have someone closer, he could handle it. After all, that's how he had been fighting his whole life. But then again, never before had he been interested in someone like that.

The elevator ride to the docks was the longest Shepard had ever made, or it felt like that. That would be the last moment they shared alone together, because on the other side the Normandy and the rest of the crew awaited for weeks of uninterrupted work.

But instead of talking, when Garrus noticed his gaze fixed on him, all Shepard did was pat him in the back with a smile. Garrus nodded back, smiling too, and the elevator doors opened. Shepard's smile faded, and with it all optimistic feelings he had.

All his longing felt heavier than ever, so when things really went to hell, it didn't take him by surprise.

Things went to hell very quickly.

The Normandy didn't stand a chance. Even without a full damage report, he could see the ship was lost. He managed to hear Joker through the radio, saying that the attackers were not geth, and that statement had made him shudder for a moment. Then of course things had happened too fast to stop and think. He tried to put out fires in vital systems, but there was no use. He had to get himself, and Joker, out. With that thought, and only that thought in mind, he set to escape the burning wreckage that was the Normandy.

The silence of space greeted him as soon as he reached the upper deck. He tried to keep his step on zero gravity, as he dodged heavy floating pieces of the ship. He tried to look up, through the now completely destroyed upper hull of the ship, to take a look at their attackers. Who could have detected the Normandy so accurately? Who had weapons that could tear the ship apart so easily? He couldn't think of any technology, any weapons that would match it's characteristics. Even the sound it made was different from other mass accelerators.

But he didn't see anything, except for the looming planet that occupied most of his vision, and more wreckage that floated away. They were close to the planet, but they could still make use of the shuttles. However, eventually the remnants of the Normandy would fall in it's atmosphere.

The stubborn idiot was still in his seat, and Shepard knew well it wasn't because of his condition. It didn't take him long to realize the Normandy was lost. He didn't take it so well, but at least they were ready to leave now.

The ship was barely holding together. In a few minutes the pieces would be scattered, and completely unrecognizable. Whoever did this, would pay.

They were ready to go. He only had to press the launch button, the launch button just next to him... But everything was reaching a critical state. The unknown enemy was still out there, still firing, relentless and unstoppable. He would live to face them, he would live to make them pay.

But his hand lost grip, and the blast from one of the last explosions pulled him away. With one last effort, he released the pod, securing Joker's survival, and floated away violently pushed by the blast.

Shepard was now adrift, and he knew it well. The attackers wouldn't fire at him directly, systems couldn't target something of his size among the rubble. All he had to do was keep calm, and remember his instruction. But he didn't have a chance. Before he could act, he started to hear a hiss that could only mean one terrible, terrible thing.

A panic he had never experienced in his whole life overwhelmed him.

There was a leak in his suit. He tried to reach the module on his back, but it was useless. The force of the blast had damaged the tubes that connected his armor's life support with his helmet. The inertia of the explosion kept him plummeting as fast as it had thrown him, while he tried to struggle with the tubes, trying to seal it in some way.

Dammit, why did he had to die in such a way? After all the beasts that could have eaten him, all the weapons and angry aliens he had faced, was he going to perish from a mechanical malfunction? It was way too soon. He had so many things to do!

The struggle became completely desperate. He waved his arms, his legs, feeling how his lungs failed to bring him air. Any worry he had about being lost in space disappeared. In fact, gradually every rational thought left his mind. Fear of being caught in the planet's atmosphere, fear of being crushed by the heavy wreckage, or fear of being captured by his assailants. There was only one thought in his panicked mind.

I'm going to die.

He felt his entire body hurt, almost burning, desperately asking for oxygen that wouldn't come. His muscles started to go numb, as did his mind, while his vision began to fade away. The last thing he saw was a golden light beam, and a blue glow beneath him, possibly the planet's atmosphere. It was sweet and peaceful, like an ocean. Like the sky of his homeworld.

His thoughts became erratic, his brain was shutting down. A faint smile appeared on his face, as pain abandoned him, and he couldn't hear his breathing anymore. The blue started fading away too, but not before it became the blue of an eye, then the blue markings of a turian face. Four words echoed in his mind before everything faded to black.

Should... have... told him...


End file.
